My Love, Written on a Coffee Cup
by from-under-the-stingue-tree
Summary: "Before turning back to the handsome customer behind him and before Sting could convince himself that he was making a bad idea, he whipped out his Sharpie again. He gathered as much courage as he could. [...] He paused for a second, and without thinking, scribbled down one more thing." Sting is working first shift at the cafe, and Rogue comes in, just like he always does. Fluff.


**My Love, Written on a Coffee Cup**

 _Stingue_

* * *

Sting Eucliffe was up early on Monday. He was up early every day. Sting Eucliffe worked the first shift at the Forever Dreaming Café.

Long before the sun had even _considered_ coming over the horizon, Sting was already trekking across the university campus towards the café. The pathways in the courtyards were coated in a thin sheet of ice and lined with three-foot-high snowbanks from the storm earlier in the week. Icicles hanging from the trees would have been pretty in the daylight, but they looked strangely eerie in the dark sky that was illuminated only by the fluorescent street lights from fifty feet away.

He pulled his phone out of the front pocket of his black jeans to check the time. 4:43AM. _Shit,_ he cursed. _I need to open in seventeen minutes._ Sting picked up his pace, careful not to slip on the ice. His Converse would do very little to save him if he were to slip. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and tucked his hands back into the pouch of his hoodie, which really wasn't doing much to help keep him warm in the sub-zero temperatures of northern Fiore.

At precisely 4:48, Sting slipped the key into the lock and entered the dark café. He was instantly welcomed by incredible warmth. Sting reminded himself to thank his bosses for keeping the thermostat on a schedule to be warm before Sting arrived.

Working on pure muscle memory and little to no consciousness, he turned on the lights, slipped off his hoodie, put on his black apron, and started the first pot of coffee brewing. Yukino should be coming in around six o'clock, but that was more than an hour from now. Sting was working the opening shift alone today.

At exactly five o'clock, Sting flipped the sign on the door to "OPEN" and flipped on the light that shined over the outside of the door.

He hadn't even gotten back behind the counter when his first Regular strolled into the café.

"Good morning, Gray," Sting chirped, forcing his voice to make it sound like he was much more awake and enthusiastic than he actually was. "Will you be having your usual this morning?"

The man with spiky black hair yawned as he nodded.

Sting tapped a few things on the touch screen register, and the card scanner buzzed to life and emitted a red beam. "Total's three thirty-five."

Gray straightened his long white coat as he scanned his phone and asked, "How are you this morning?"

Sting smiled tiredly, just as he did every morning. This was what he loved about working the same shift every day. He had a certain number of Regular customers who knew who Sting was, ordered the same thing every day, and talked to Sting regularly. "I'm good, thanks," he replied as he strolled over to the coffee pot.

"Where are you off to this morning?"

"I've got a doctor's appointment in a few hours, but I need to get some work done this morning," Gray replied with yet another yawn.

Sting pulled a Sharpie out of his apron and scribbled down "have a great day" next to the logo on the cup before pouring the hot liquid. He handed Gray the drink as the door swung open, revealing his second Regular customer, another young man with hair in a similar style to Gray's, except pink.

Gray strolled over to one of the comfy chairs by the window and started unpacking his things.

"Morning, Natsu," Sting said as he walked over to the register, where he started inputting the Natsu's regular order: a medium mocha, add raspberry.

The pink-haired university student didn't answer, though. His longing gaze was still on Gray, who was powering up his laptop and shuffling papers around.

Sting leaned over the counter and whispered, "If you like him, just ask him out. He's single."

Natsu whipped around towards Sting, eyes wide. "How do you know?" he asked too enthusiastically for any normal circumstance (especially at this time of the morning).

"We talk every morning. He's single."

Natsu sighed and pulled out his wallet to pay. "He's probably straight."

Sting couldn't contain his chuckle. "That's funny. He's just as straight as I am. Meaning, he's gay as hell. Your total is five fifty-two." He took the card Natsu offered, ran it through, and handed it back along with a receipt.

Natsu shrugged as Sting made his drink. "I don't know. I can't deal with a relationship right now, anyways. Too much school bullshit."

Sting scribbled down "he likes you too" onto the cup. "Well, if I can help at all, don't hesitate to ask," Sting offered and held out the drink. "Have a nice day."

"Thanks," Natsu said with a blush as he walked out of the café.

And then he strode back over to the register to repeat the process with his next Regular, who had walked in while he was talking with Natsu. Sting gulped. _Holy shit._ Just as it did every day, Sting's breath caught at the image of the god standing across the counter from himself.

The man was about Sting's height, wore black jeans and a black hoodie that had a logo for a marching band show on it every day. He once told Sting that it was the show his high school's band did in his senior year of high school. He had jet black hair that he kept pulled up into a ponytail all the time, but his long bangs covered the majority of the right side of his face. A thin scar ran over the bridge of his nose, and he had the most beautiful ruby red eyes that Sting had ever seen.

"Good morning, Rogue," Sting said with a grin. "How are you?"

He sighed, "Tired as fuck. How about you?"

"Dude, same," Sting laughed. "Will you be having your usual?"

Rogue considered it and then replied, "Yeah, but add an espresso shot, please. I need all the energy I can get today." He hung his head as he went on. "I have an exam tonight, three essays due later this week, and I'm working long shifts for the next two days, so today is the only day I have to write and study."

Sting frowned in sympathy. "I'm sorry, Rogue. Good luck. I'm sure you'll be okay."

Rogue chuckled harshly. "Sure. I'm gonna fuckin' die."

"Your total is going to be four twenty-one."

Rogue handed Sting a blue credit card. As Sting ran it through, Rogue asked, "Anyways, how are you?"

"I'm doing alright, thanks." Sting really wanted to carry on a longer conversation, but he was too tired to do so. _So, are you straight? Are you dating anyone? Wanna make out? You down to suck my dick?_ Sting struggled to keep a straight face as that thought crossed his mind. "I've got Calc later on today, but I'm on until two. I'm really hoping Yukino might let me clock out a few minutes early so I can get a few minutes of sleep before class, but I didn't tell you that. For all you know, I love my job and plan to work overtime today," he added with a wink and a light blush.

"Of course," Rogue said with a laugh. "Are you in Professor Scarlet's Comp 101 class?"

"Mmhmm," Sting hummed in response as he pulled out a cup and scribbled down the order and Rogue's name. "I am."

"Have you decided on the topic for your final paper yet?"

"Hell no," Sting barked, walking over towards the coffee machine. "You?"

"Not a goddamn clue. I was hoping you'd give me some inspiration."

Sting frowned in sympathy. "Sorry, man." His heart was beating way too damn fast. _He's just another person,_ he reminded himself. _Yeah, and he's hot as hell!_

Sting's eyes dragged over the boy's body. He noted how well Rogue's black jeans fit, how the slightly-too-big hoodie was trying (and failing) to hide how amazing Rogue's body was, how a stray piece of hair had landed on Rogue's lips. Sting discretely gulped as his gaze lingered a tad bit too long on the customer's mouth. _Oh, god._

Rogue blinked a few times. "Are you alright? Your face is red."

The barista quickly tore his line of sight from Rogue's face and back to the empty coffee cup in his hands. _Shit, my hands are sweating._ He wiped one hand at a time on his apron, trying to look like he was brushing off a bit of dusting. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks."

Rogue didn't look very convinced, but shrugged anyways.

Sting turned around and poured out the coffee into the cup. He loosed a breath, desperately trying to calm himself down. _Calm. The. Fuck. Down. Sting._ Before turning back to the handsome customer behind him and before Sting could convince himself that he was making a bad idea, he whipped out his Sharpie again. He gathered as much courage as he could. Very carefully, Sting wrote down his phone number and "good luck with your papers." He paused for a second, and without thinking, scribbled down one more thing. "Have a nice day!" he exclaimed as he spun on his heel and handed Rogue the coffee cup.

The black-haired student smiled in thanks and walked over towards one of the chairs nearby.

His head was spinning. _Did I really just do that? Holy fucking shit! Shitshitshitshitshit! Goddamn it, Sting! You goddamn idiot. He's a_ customer. _You're a_ worker. _Work and personal life stay_ separate. _You damn idiot. He's gonna think you're weird as fuck. And creepy, too. Good fucking job._

Sting watched as Rogue took his seat and took out his laptop and a few binders. While the computer was starting up, Rogue picked up the coffee cup and brought it to his lips. He flinched, and Sting filled in the blanks that the drink had been too hot. Rogue spun the cup so that Sting's writing was facing him.

Sting swallowed nervously as he watched the dark-haired boy's face for a reaction. After a couple seconds, a small smile revealed itself on Rogue's face.

The barista felt light headed.

"Hey, Sting?" a bright, feminine voice called from his left. "Are you alright? You've been just standing there for almost two minutes, and you look like you're getting ill."

Sting shook his head, desperately trying to bring himself back to reality. "I thought you weren't supposed to be coming in until six," he asked, still slightly dazed.

The white-haired girl chuckled lightly. "I woke up early and couldn't fall back asleep. Anyways, my shift starts in thirty-five minutes," Yukino explained as she tied on her apron. "What have I missed? Because _clearly_ something happened if you're this out of it."

"I'm just tired is all," he mumbled, walking back to the register, where the next customer was impatiently tapping her fingers. "Morning, Luce."

The blond yawned and said, "Morning. My usual, please. I'll also have two medium cappuccinos." Lucy looked like she was falling asleep standing up.

"Are you alright? You look a bit like you're dying," Sting wondered.

"Cana and Juvia were over last night, so…" she trailed off, a dark blush dusting her cheeks. Sting swallowed, struggling to not flush at the implications of her words as his mind connected the pieces.

"Total's fourteen eighty-six. Where are you heading to today?"

She handed over fifteen dollars in cash. "Classes as usual. I'm working the late shift at Café Rosa tonight. Keep the change." Café Rosa was the fancy Italian restaurant a few doors down from Forever Dreaming.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I have no use for fourteen cents," Lucy explained simply.

Yukino walked up, holding a tray with the three drinks. "Here you go. Have a nice day," she chirped. Sting was going to mention that he wanted to write messages on each cup, but he realised that Yukino had already done that, and the nice notes were written in her pretty, loopy script.

The morning continued just as it did every day: the rest of Sting's regulars came in, and they repeated the same little small talk they did every day. It was almost time for Sting to clock out when Rogue came back up to the counter. Yukino mysteriously vanished as soon as she saw Rogue walking up.

"Hello again," Sting said cheerily.

"Two things," Rogue started. "First, is the WiFi out? Truth be told, it could just be my laptop, that piece of shit. Second, can I get a hazelnut macchiato, please and thank you?"

Sting input the order and replied, "I'll check to see if it is. How's the writing going?"

Rogue's friendly smile faltered. "I think I need to start looking into how one gets into the drug dealing business, because this whole university thing isn't working for me," he said with a laugh. "It's not great, but I think I'll be okay. How's the coffee-making going?"

Sting sighed dramatically. "I think I need to look into this male prostitute business, because this kind of working just isn't paying the bills." He cracked a smile. "For real, it's pretty good. I like my job." Before he could stop himself, he added, "It helps that I get to see you a lot." And then Sting's heart was lodged in his throat. _Shitshitshitshitshit. That was most definitely not the thing to say right then._

And then the response came as: "There's a reason why I come here, and it's definitely not for the coffee." The dark-haired man smiled and winked at Sting.

 _Um. Holy shit. Holy goddamn fucking SHIT. Did he just say he comes here for me? AND DID HE JUST INSULT MY COFFEE?_ Although Sting _really_ wanted to say something about the very obvious hint, he asked in a slightly threatening tone, "What did you just say about my coffee?" In order to keep the mood light and playful, he kept the smile plastered on his face so that Rogue didn't mistake his tone of voice for genuinely offended.

"I just said that the coffee isn't great, but the impossibly attractive barista makes the sub-par coffee worth it." Rogue's smirk was incredible.

"That so?" The words sounded slightly strangled as Sting struggled to not show any of his nervousness on his face. "I've got this one customer who comes in every day and makes dealing with all the teenage girls and people who don't know what the fuck they want to order totally and one hundred percent worth it. He's fuckin' great. Hot, too."

Those beautiful red eyes were locked on bright blue. "Would you like to have some sub-par coffee with me once you get off work?"

Sting heard a shout from the back room: "You can go now!" Both men laughed at the very helpful, currently-eavesdropping co-worker.

Cracking an even bigger smile, Sting responded, "I'd love to."

"By the way, the WiFi's fine. I just needed an excuse to come talk to you that wasn't just to get another coffee."

"I figured," Sting replied with a grin.

* * *

 **Extra~**

"So what was it that made you come up and ask me out?" Sting wondered, sipping his latte. He had an idea as to the answer, but he didn't know for sure.

Rogue chuckled lightly as if the answer should be obvious. He spun around the empty coffee cup to show Sting's handwriting. "You literally wrote 'I love you' on my coffee cup along with your number. I thought your hint was quite obvious." He added, "And anyways, I've been eyeing you forever. You just gave me an excuse."

Sting laughed nervously. "I thought you were going to hate me," he admitted with red cheeks.

"Nah, you're good," Rogue explained casually.

"Good."


End file.
